


Sectumsempra

by lizardcookie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Battle Couple, Dark, F/M, battle couple jily, death eaters and necromancy, full of magic and monsters and that whole Whats Even Happening in the first wizarding war, gets sort of violent, its GUESS WHAT order jily, jily, the disintegration of friendship and trust that comes at the end of the war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-27 06:28:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8390791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizardcookie/pseuds/lizardcookie
Summary: The Order hasn't seen a fight this bad in a while, and in the end, Lily Potter doesn't think she'll see a fight like this for the rest of her life.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> "Sectumsempra was always a specialty of Snape's." -Remus Lupin, Half Blood Prince.

“Nice one!” James lets out, nearly out of breath but not quite so. Admittedly, that _had_ been a rather stunning Stunning Spell, but Lily doesn’t need her husband wasting energy on compliments, habitual or not. The suburban Muggle area had fallen quickly, and hungry flames continue to lick up the sides of the run down buildings as an orange glow mixes curiously with the green off the faint Mark hanging in the air. She can see Professor McGonagall dueling alongside Moody, as well as Dedalus Diggle barely scraping by with three masked Death Eaters closed in a tight circle around him.

Lily takes a moment to do a visual sweep of the perimeter and her hopes drop impossibly lower. Peter and Emmeline Vance were still out of sight, presumably busy Apparating the remaining Muggles into a safe zone miles away from the ruins of what had previously been their homes.

 _Disappointment,_ Lily corrects herself, twisting her wrist and plunging her arm forward to send a complicated hex off, complexity that’s morphed into simplicity by necessity. _Disappointment. Not dread._

She has to ignore the crumpled masses on the ground. She has to ignore the fact that they’re standing over massacred bodies, and that she hasn’t seen Sirius in the past hours of fighting. Instead, Lily focuses on James, who hasn’t left her side the whole time. That’s how he operates best, with someone as his second. It’s a sad state of affairs where this is the same old song and dance that they've been playing at for almost two years now, and she and James have their tag-team formation down as well as he and Sirius have it.

“Duck,” she tells him calmly, and he dives down just in time for her to reflect the red spell that had been hurling towards his back. James pops back up with as much flourish as he can muster, sending a rapid fire succession of stinging hexes back over to the source. With a bang and a yell, a short and stubby Death Eater falls to the ground pulling his legs into his body.

Tonight’s round has been tough--worse than usual. A real pickled fire-newt, as Moody would say. Outnumbered as they were, the Order lost any semblance of control upon arrival. Voldemort’s forces had managed to form an Apparation barrier, interfere with their typical formation, and brought along enough magical creatures on their side to fill a textbook. Thankfully the one giantess was neutralized by her own foolishness, crushed by the very building she collapsed. Lily’s certain it was Dorcas Meadowes who decided to incinerate the structure for good measure, and the stench of it all fills the air.  

“We’re losing ground fast,” James yells, his voice strained but alert. He’s right, of course, and she doesn’t need any reminder as he adds, “We’ve gotta get out of here.”

“Professor!” Lily calls, and Minerva McGonagall turns at her call, as she always does. “Professor, we need a retreat! Call the Order back!”

The old woman immediately swings around. “Alastor!”

“Hold your ranks!” He shouts back. “We haven’t got the signal!”

The next hex from James’ wand is forceful but sloppy. He’s losing focus, and she can’t blame him. It’s obvious that even James, steady and reliable as he tends to be, is questioning Moody’s orders.

A new Mark is shot in the air, replacing the faded old one, and Lily nearly starts to cry in frustration. Maybe even envy. How is it possible for so many witches and wizards to fight for Voldemort, and so little for Dumbledore? Obedient, well-trained, fearful, cruel followers or Imperiused victims know to flock to a fresh Mark.

As a dark mass moves towards them, Lily begins to feel the tell-tale warning signs of a different threat. The air shifts, and what had once been a cold December night engulfed in flames now feels different, a new sort of chill in the air. For the briefest of moments, James’ hand grasps her’s on instinct as the screaming in their heads begin. It’s faint, though, which means they have time. The Dementors have not descended yet, nor have they closed ranks on the forces on the ground. An Order retreat is still an option yet.

She and James jump into formation once more, standing back to back to deal with the oncoming line of attack. They rely on what they know, spells learned in school and in Order training, but it is hard to combat Unforgivables with magic that can be deflected and shielded against. Flashes of green strike the air, and she hears tortured screams from a short distance that sound like the product of Cruciatus. But its source-- witch or wizard, Muggle or Order or even Death Eater-- is unknown. Lily aims a well-placed Blasting Curse towards her target but is startled by a new explosion to her rear, and she jerks forward, losing balance. She’s barely standing back up straight when she’s brought all the way down by force.

“Lily!” James warns before leaping full bodied at her, knocking her onto the ground with him on top of her. His hand cups her head from impact and she feels the rush of air inches above their bodies, a flash of green flown by and gone with its own horrific beauty. Her wordless _thank you_ is communicated through a simple glance as they stand back up, straight to a run towards the east where the Prewett brothers had been working on a distraction plan earlier in the night. James leads them towards an alleyway between two of the few still-standing buildings, and he nearly shoves Lily into the temporary shelter.

The sounds of fighting and terror are muffled, and their labored breathing fills the air.

“Alright?” She asks, knowing the answer.

“Always,” he shoots back. Their usual lie.

“You’re bleeding.”

“No worse than you,” James counters tersely, digging in his pocket. He pulls out the mirror, hands shaking. “Sirius. Sirius, come in. Padfoot!”

The mirror remains blank, and the look James sends Lily nearly breaks her heart in two.

“I saw him run off after Bellatrix and I haven’t seen him since,” he fills her in, tucking the mirror back safely.

“And Remus?”

He shakes his head dejectedly. “Not since before the giantess.”

“We won’t find them here,” Lily says bracingly, pointing her wand at her knee in an attempt to quickly mend the burst skin through torn stockings. She didn’t like how stiff her shoulder felt, but that was a problem for later. James bunches some of his sweater in his fist, taking her chin in his hand as he rubs at the gash along her hairline, rougher than she’s used to seeing from him.

“You’ll go blind soon if you keep letting the blood flow down,” he explains gruffly, not meeting her eye.

“Hey,” Lily grabs him at his shoulder. He doesn’t look at her, and she knows he’s beginning to shut down. “It’s going to be fine.”

Again, the usual lies, but they work. He nods once, rolling his shoulders. “This is ridiculous. Vance should have sent the retreat signal ages ago. There's nothing to win here.”

“It’ll come. There’s got to be a good reason it’s delayed,” Lily reassures him, but she’d be lying if she claimed the same thought hadn’t crossed her own mind. The area is in ruins, they have no advantages, and whatever foothold the Order established upon arrival at the scene is all but gone. Moody’s refusal to retreat without signal seems like a foolish crusade. Lily has no idea what is holding off the messenger Patronus, which had usually been proven an effective way to ward off Death Eater interference, as they tended to lack any Patronus skill.

The chances that both Peter and Emmeline have been incapacitated is improbable (what with Peter’s secret talent for escaping), but not impossible. Lily shudders. That makes each one of the boys unaccounted for, a battle strategy that she and James have always tried to avoid whenever possible.

A resounding boom hits the air, and Lily feels a fresh wave of panic wash over them both. They can't handle another giant. Not with the Order spread so thin, too exhausted after hours of conflict. James takes the lead to the source of the disturbance, a short sprint, relatively close to their hideaway spot. Lily almost breaths a sigh of relief at the sight, because it’s not another giant but something far more simple-- a freshly collapsed building, roasting in a fire.

“Gideon! Are you mad?” That must Fabian yelling, then, his red hair plastered onto his forehead with sweat and soot from the smoke bombs they’d been lobbing into the fray whenever possible. Gideon, Lily realizes, is who collapsed the building so efficiently, and he hasn’t accomplished his end goal because his wand tip is still ignited with a column of flames jetting out the tip. The flames spread, along with the smoke.

“You’ll kill us all!” Lily yells out, and she wonders briefly if he’s been Imperiused-- they’re standing trapped in a circle of flames in what had previously been a clear area. But Fabian seems to catch up to his brother’s intention as he too sends out fire from his wand.

“They’ve both gone barking,” James turns to her, and he opens his mouth to say something else before Marlene McKinnon and Diggle come rushing from the smoke, wands at the ready as they too begin to magic out flames.

“Inferi!” McKinnon’s cry reverberates in the air as comprehension finally dawns on Lily. The dangerous increase in flames is the only thing shielding them from an oncoming army of the undead, and Lily is suddenly grateful for smoke stinging her lungs. It’s shielding her from facing the bodies of those they've failed to save before.

The six of the form a circle, but for how long they’ll be able to stand ground is doubtful. Not for the first time this evening (morning? It must be well past midnight now), Lily wonders if trying to Apparate away despite the block would be worth it. Wonders if she and James should just run, orders and the mission and the others be damned because this is a losing fight if she’s ever seen one. But just as quickly as the those panicked thoughts settle in her mind, they vanish, because James is still standing next to her as an ever fortifying reminder that he would never abandon a fight for the sake of his own life. His loyalty is to the death. The selfish urge to run dies in her mouth, leaving Lily a bit shocked to realize that she had almost voiced her thought to abandon ship out loud.

It’s moments like this, when the first line of shadows begin to filter through the flames, that Lily understands the full gravity of what she’s found herself in. Because fighting for life and freedom is exhilarating, and she’s got enough practice to know that she can best about anyone in a fair duel. Hell, she’d even managed to survive Voldemort himself and survived, hadn’t she? But this isn’t a fair duel, this is in every way the darkest sort of magic and evil that defies nature and light.

She can hear their screams. Inferi fear fire above all else, but in this moment Lily has never been more grateful for the way that the thick smoke coats her lungs and dulls her brain. The wheezing and slow thinking is nothing compared to the horror of fighting an Inferius and recognizing the undead body.

Only… what now? The six of them in a circle of flames puts them as sitting ducks, waiting for the approaching Inferi to either burn or slink back away into the darkness. They’re open targets to any Death Eater who knows a good flame retardant charm, or another giant, or anything. And Lily’s fears of this being an elaborate trap come true when the shadows in the flames burst forth, charging straight towards them--

Alastor Moody leads Frank and Alice Longbottom through the fire wall, with McGonagall holding the rear. Not Death Eaters, but reinforcements who, Lily realizes with an jolt of relief, are in an all out sprint away from the heart of the battle.

Retreat. Glorious retreat.

“Fall back!” Moody croaks out, a bit pointlessly, because McKinnon and Diggle have already broken formation to join the brigade, and Lily pauses only to make sure James is with her as they take off, running full speed after the others until they are clear from the flames, away from the army of dead bodies and in sight of a nearby field. A full thirty metres ahead of them, Lily sees the distinctive turn of Apparation, and a quick glance behind her shows that neither Death Eater nor Inferius has followed too near.

James pushes her harshly, and she stumbles forward before looking back at him in confusion.

“Run!” He yells at her, and he’s already begun to turn back in the opposite direction, away from safety. “Go, Lily!”

“No!” Lily stumbles, then turns to grab his arm, appalled. “What are you doing?”

Their eyes meet, and she sees true fear reflected there,

“I can’t leave without Sirius,” James says pleadingly, unnecessarily begging her to understand. “You’re safe, Lily, go, follow McGonagall--”

This is James’ form of selfishness, to think that sacrificing his own safety for Sirius wouldn’t affect her. And it’s her own form of selfishness to wish he wouldn’t be like this, that he would instead rely on Sirius’ own abilities to escape rather than ensuring with complete certainty that he’d done all that was possible for his brother.

It’s the same loyalty that has saved her own life countless times. It’s the same loyalty and sacrifice that she knows will be the end of him.

“We don’t have time to argue,” Lily shook her head, clearing it. Preparing herself once more. “I’m not leaving without you.”

They take off back towards the Inferi without another word, hoping that they would find Sirius on the side of the living. Hoping beyond hope that he’s still around, just waiting for them to catch up. A sick game of hide and go seek.

James leads them around the worst of the flames, sticking to the outskirts of the ruined area. The Order gone means that Death Eaters will likely be doing their own form of clean up work. Voldemort’s troops will still be there, scouring the village for survivors, rummaging through the bodies for valuables, monitoring that the Dementors get their share of whatever is left of the souls that remain in the corpses-- payment for their services. The nastiest, Darkest of Death Eaters will be performing the Necromancy required to raise more fallen victims for the army of Inferi.

Their strategy shifts from survival to stealth. Crouching low to the ground, Lily longs for the Invisibility Cloak-- but Peter has it. Peter, who should have sent the retreat signal and never did, who should have joined the fight long ago, who was just as missing as Remus and Sirius.

“Stay close,” James mutters pointlessly. He taps the tip of her head gently, and Lily shivers a little at the odd sensation of the disillusionment charm taking hold. He taps his own head, and Lily watches her husband disappear into the background of rubble, fire, and corpses.

As expected, Death Eaters still mull about the area, but James keeps them close to the perimeter of whatever structures remain. Without the Order present, they’ve lowered their defenses, too, with their hoods dropped and masks off. Yaxley and Lucius Malfoy creep far too near them when James turns through the next alley, and they wait in tense stillness for Malfoy to stop peering curiously their way.

“So much for his last claim at being _Imperiused_ ,” Lily muttered quietly when they're in the clear. James gives a small grunt in agreement before they’re on the move again, only to run into another familiar blonde, his back turned to them but his magenta robes distinct in the night. The figure stands near a fallen lamppost that still gives off flickering light, but the rest of the area seems clear.

“Dearbon!” James nearly laughs out, relieved to find a survivor-- it bodes well for Sirius’ chances. James creeps out the shadows and shakes off his Disillusionment to reveal himself, but Lily stays back, her wand drawn. James brings himself fully into the light, his tone hopeful. “You gave us a right start. You’ve got to get out of here, mate, we’ve called retreat. Have you seen Sirius?”

With a small turn, Cedarac Dearborn cocks his head slightly to the left, a familiar gesture from the jovial Healer. His hair is curled in the same way it’s always been, but there’s something so incredibly _off_ about his eyes, and his posture, and the whole thing in general. Dearborn does something that looks like a shake of his head, awkward and jerky.

“Sirius.” James repeats himself. “Have you seen him?”

“James,” Lily warns quietly. Dearborn is still looking at them without expression, and everything in Lily is screaming that something is wrong.

“Forget it, mate, get out of here--” James starts to say at the same time that Lily yells “ _Incinerate!”_ and Cedarac Dearborn opens his mouth.

Because it's not the Cedarac Dearborn they knew, who breeds barn owls and picks fights with Mundungus about how often one can safely Floo Powder per day. No. The Dearborn in front of them opens his mouth with a bone chilling scream, his face practically split in two as he lunged forward with deathly speed and Lily jumped before James, slashing her wand through the air and creating yet another pillar of flames as a barrier against the newborn Inferius.

“Run!” Lily yells as she throws the flames from her wand tip, turning heel to join James as he picked himself up after stumbling along the rubble in shock for a moment. They round a corner, but escape from one monster brings them into the hands of three more.

Ironic, really, that trapping Cedarac in what he now fears most brings them straight into the clutches of three Dementors.

Close, too close, and James freezes up but Lily has enough momentum to grab him bodily and force him into a new direction, and they stumble again, running impossibly farther, pushing and pushing and pushing until Lily spies another opening. Taking advantage of the Dementors’ blindness, she pulls James into an alleyway, similar to the sanctuary they found earlier this evening.

Breathing heavily, James leans against the wall, head in his hands. Visibly shaking, visibly losing it.

“I--I can’t do it,” he pants. “Sirius is dead. I can’t find him. I can’t do this.”

Cold sweat runs down her body, ever aware that their time is limited. She has to pick up her wand, but it's so heavy. “We don’t know that.”

“It’s true, it’s done, it’s over--”

“Shut up,” Lily reaches out her heavy hands and covers his mouth, her eyes focusing deeply into his. She’s crouched too, and she has to act, has to move, and she knows something’s missing here. “Think. Remember.”

His eyes are shut tight, blocking her words out rather than blocking out the Dementor’s ability to call back the worst of his memories. She knows them well. The sounds Benjy Fenwick made as he was tortured in front of them, finding out his parents had died, the look of pain Remus’ face just before transforming, and everything else they’ve seen in this war. Lily, however, sees only James and their wedding and the look he’s given her every day since they’ve been in love, alight with the purest form of happiness--

“ _Expecto Patronum!_ ” Lily shouts, her doe bursting forth from her wand, dancing around her and James for a loop before running out the alcove to charge at the Dementors drawing ever nearer. James stares, blinking slowly at the sight. Realizing she was still disguised in Disillusionment, Lily drops the charm to reveal herself to James, whose eyes focus on her. Weaker and more hesitant, but there all the same, James sent out his own stag and the matching Patronuses make their charge to the south towards three Dementors who float eerily away. The empty cold of their power leaves, and Lily grabs James’ cheeks in her hands, pulling him down to her level. She’s not used to seeing him like this, far more hollow than he should be. Even when he’s exhausted, even when they’re battle weary and disheartened, he’s never been this hollow.

It leaves her with a fear that far excels that of a Dementor’s ability.

“Listen to me,” she strokes her thumbs across his cheeks, feeling the soot and sweat and grime that mars her husband’s sharp looks. His glasses are filthy and scratched.  “You’re off your game. We’re never going to find Sirius if you’re already half gone with worry.”

“I know,” he drops his head sheepishly, whispering to match her low tones. “It’s just… we’ve never been split this long. Not like this. Not bad like this.”

“I know,” Lily parrots, voice gentle. But they can only stay crouched here for so long, someone is bound to have noticed their Patronuses and come crawling. “Come on, love. We have to keep moving.”

She takes the lead this time, continuing on their path. She recognizes the small area as the place where she and James and Sirius had first Apparated onto the scene-- James had been leading them back to the start, an old strategy he and the boys used at school when a prank required them to split up.

Lily switches paths, more pragmatic and less nostalgic. Sirius isn’t here at the start because Sirius took off after Bellatrix, and if Sirius isn't here than he’s likely there, in some form of another.

What she finds is an empty, open area. Less damaged than other sections, free from fire and other monsters. It’s an oddly peaceful place that still maintains a certain level of discomfort. Even with no one in sight, Lily couldn't shake the feeling that they’d been followed, that something was lurking just beyond her eyesight, watching them as they stand in the center of the former shop area. Like there was something in the shadows. Whether it’s experience informing her or paranoia taking over, Lily can’t tell.

Still, it’s empty and they need a rest. Chest heaving from exhaustion, James begins to dig in his trouser pockets, only half looking at Lily.

“I’m going to try the mirror again. Or do you think transforming would help?”

“For you to be found and taken as a hunting trophy?” She nearly rolls her eyes at him, but holds back.

“Right,” James nods, though to Lily it seems like he’s still mulling the idea over in his head. He pulls out the mirror and Lily decides to do recon, her focus on a bookstore that had maintained its integrity, unlike the rest of the village area. Curious, Lily starts to walk the perimeter with her wand steady, recalling how Sirius once told her that he’d once run away to Flourish and Blotts for a whole day before Fourth Year. Perhaps James had been onto something in believing they could find Sirius by relying on what they know about him.

 “ _Homulus Revelio,”_ Lily murmurs under her breath, pointing down a cobblestone path heading east. Her wand tip grows a subtle blue, enough to indicate human presence that isn’t just James on the other side of the building. “I’m getting something here,” she says, making her way back to the courtyard. “It’s not much, but I think-- James?”

Lily stares out, more confused than anything at the first sight of her husband lying facedown on the ground  with his arms splayed out above his head and legs sprawled behind him like an oversized doll. But her next moments are filled with panic, terror gripping at her heart as she ran from the shop to the courtyard center to see blood begin to soak through James’ sweater, a result of the three giant gashes running horizontally across his mid-back. In a sort of rapid slow motion, the world stops, and Lily has enough time to see that something has gone deeply, horrifyingly wrong. Her eyes trail from her husband’s body to see exactly who lurks in the shadows, wand still raised from their attack.

The Death Eater standing before them pauses his retreat a moment too long, and Lily knows what has happened even before all the pieces can fit together to make sense. Her eyes dart to his left hand and the familiar black wand identifies the Death Eater as clearly as the curse he had just taken James down with. How would she not recognize that particular bit of Dark Magic, having been witness to its development? How would she not recognize the twitch of the hand that holds the offending wand, the black hair that sticks out from behind the mask?

“You absolute _coward!”_ She yells, standing her full height, wand poised for attack. It doesn’t matter now that the noise she’s making has given away their position, has alerted other Death Eaters of their presence in the peaceful alcove she’d found. What matters is the man in a mask before her, who measures her, waiting, before Lily shoots off a hex.

Severus Snape deflects it with a simple flick of his wand.

“His back was turned!” She screams, tears forming in her eyes as she stands over the unconscious form of her husband’s body. Snape deflects her next spells as well, without a word. His inaction only serves to fuel her anger. “Coward! Fight back!”

He rejects her challenge with another flick of his wand, so she decides to aim her _Expulso_ at the ground before his feet. Blue light jets out her wand and the earth rumbles as Snape loses balance, nearly falling backwards.

“Too afraid to duel me, Severus?” Another flourish of her wand that Snape deflects again just in time, infuriating her further. “Too afraid be bested by a _Mudblood?_ ”

Anger, Lily finds in this moment, is much easier to deal with than the dread that crawls heavy up her body. Aiming her wand at Snape was much easier than looking down at her feet where James lay motionless. This fight was easier to keep focus on, with Snape, who knew exactly who he was cursing and why. Who had done so in shadows, just as he always operated.

“Go, Lily,” Snape calls back to her, his coolness adding insult to injury. He deflects another spell. “There’s nothing left for you here. Leave.”

“Not until you fight me!” She yells, but it's no use. Snape slithers back into darkness, the moment between them witnessed by no one but shadows. But she’s got no time to rest, no time for anything because the next moment, three masked and cloaked figures come running into the previously deserted area, straight for her and James--

She acts on instinct. There not so much a thought or word in her mind so much as there is _feeling,_ and she feels everything fall together and come apart when she raises her wand in defense. The winter cold, mixed in with the sheer ferocity of her terror for James at her feet, doesn’t leave much room for conscious decision as her wand rips through the air and she releases a frustrated, panicked scream that tears her smoke heavy throat apart, heaves her chest in two and breaks her heart. Lily isn’t sure what color the resulting spells are-- blue or orange or red or even bright Unforgiveable green-- she doesn't know. All she knows is that one by one, her victims drop before her and they don't get up. Don't even stir.

Lily doesn’t make the time to worry or regret what she's done. She drops down, crouched near James’ face. He’s still breathing, shallow and shaky breaths leaving his chapped lips with far too much effort and far too little life.

“James?” she repeats, and if he had any decency he would hear the terror in his wife’s voice. “No, no, no, James, get up, can you hear me?”

There have been instances in battle in which Lily prided herself in remaining calm under pressure, instances where she knows her quick thinking and level headedness have saved lives. This is not such a moment. James is bleeding, badly, and she knows that it can’t be stopped by mere dittany and the few healing charms she’s perfected. Not Dark Magic like this, which needs urgent attention that conjured bandages can’t help. She tries, anyway, pulling up his shirt so that  her wand can trace the open gashes and simply wish them to close even as they continue to bleed free, vicious and relentless.

Lying on his stomach as he was, she has to awkwardly move his face so she could see more life, to tap into something left there-- his eyes are rolled to the back of his head, glasses cracked in two. Lily takes them from his face and pockets them with James’ wand for safekeeping when she notices the mirror still in his hand, which she grabs in utter desperation.

“Padfoot,” she breathes out. Maybe he’s there, listening. Maybe he can even send help from beyond the grave, if that’s where he’s ended up. Maybe James is finally going to find him there, she doesn’t know. “Sirius, help, or-- Moony! We need Moony, someone, _please--_ ”

She drops the mirror with shaking hands before she gathers the sense to shove it back into her own pocket, safe with James’ wand.

“Stay with me, James, c’mon, you’re fine.” He’s not, of course, but she has to try to believe. They have to get out of here, she has to get him to Remus or Dumbledore or McKinnon, anyone who knows how to mend curses, but she’s too small to be able to bodily lift him, and she’s concerned that any sort of rough movement will aggravate the wounds even further.

There’s really only one option left here, one that James and Sirius would be proud of, one that Remus would pointedly try to ignore, and one Peter would be envious to even dare to think of.

Creating an unauthorized Portkey is enough to warrant a trip to Azkaban, but that is of no concern to Lily, who removes her own shoe and places it on the ground beside them. Of course, she’s never made a Portkey before, but she’s read up on the theory-- N.E.W.T.’s weren’t for nothing, after all. It would be so much easier if her hands weren’t shaking and if her eyes weren’t so blurry.

There’s a part of her who can see James’ face, his mouth pulled up in a grin and eyes dancing behind glasses at what she’s prepared to do, teasing her uncertainty but impressed nonetheless.

_C’mon, Evans, I’ve seen Firsties do it better._

She almost smiles but decides to channel her energy into one final task. Lily grips her husband’s body tight with one arm while the other pokes her trainer, her wand tip already glowing blue before she muttered “ _Portus”_ with headquarters and safety on her mind. She grabs the shoe, holding onto James as the last real thing left in the world as they both get sucked into the portal.


	2. Part II

What she finds is chaos. 

Sound registers before anything else, and the raised voices make her think that she’s failed, they are in the same exact place that they were, but no-- no, something is different.

It sounds different here, and it’s warmer. The air cleaner, the ground smoother, but it’s the sound, the voices, that really get her to look up from her crouched position guarding James’ body with her own. Because those voices, the ones that are raised in argument, are familiar.

Popping her head up, Lily is met with the sight of Sirius Black and Remus Lupin in a tussle, too preoccupied in their own selves to notice her arrival with James. The voices belonged to them-- yelling, as Remus had Sirius in an undignified chokehold, an impressive feat considering Sirius was five inches taller than Remus. They aren’t the only voices. Her eyes pass over the other people in the what looks like the supply room who surround the the two, but no one notices that she’s landed in the corner next to boxes of cauldrons and poor quality invisibility cloaks. Marlene McKinnon and Dorcas Meadowes and more are trying in vain to end the quarrel, and no one notices her.

Lily opens her mouth to catch their attention, but her cry for help is strangled and small, and Sirius is yelling, and Remus is yelling, and James is  _ still not waking up-- _

“For God’s sake,” Lily stands, untangling herself from James for the first time, and the boys freeze their fight, snapping their gazes to find her across the room, their shock apparent as Lily’s battle hoarse voice continued to yell, “Get your heads out of your asses and help!”

Sirius stands straight up as soon as Remus’ grip around his neck loosens, and the tension in the room shifts immediately from one pair to another. People exclaim different things, ask her questions, but all Lily registers is that someone is lifting her away from James, dragging her.

“Wait, no, let me stay with him,” Lily pleads, feeling for the hand that has a grip on her arm, holding her back. “Don’t take him from me!”

A voice speaks, the only identifying trait of whoever holds onto her, because her eyes are locked on James’ body now circled by McKinnon and Moody.

“Ms. Evans, please.” Dumbledore. He’s the only one to call her by that name, besides James and Sirius, and they’re usually not so formal about it. When did he get here? “You’ve got to give them room.” Lily notices that they’re walking, moving from the cellar where she and James arrived to the main floor of the old Fenwick home. “It’s vital you answer these questions, do you understand?”

Lily thinks she nods. At the very least, Dumbledore continues.

“What was in my office the last Head’s meeting we held your last year of Hogwarts?”

“Not what, who. Slughorn was there with a bottle of fresh dragon blood for you.”

Dumbledore nodded. “And how did you break the Apparation field around Headquarters?”

“Didn’t,” Lily says. “Portkey.”

Dumbledore stares at her for just a moment, blinking. “Impressive. Elphias,” he looked over her shoulder, beckoning Elphias Doge from where he had apparently been waiting. “Go to the Magical Law Enforcement Office and make sure they lose the warrant for Lily’s arrest and all traces of where she went. Let us hope Mafalda is on duty tonight-- we can’t have that fall into the wrong hands.”

A door opens and closes as Doge obeys the order. She stares at the wall, doing nothing to meet Dumbledore’s line of vision, too familiar and too final. Dumbledore has long since meant good news to her. Dumbledore brings new orders for new impossible missions, news of chaos, of ill omen and death.

“I know this may seem a waste of time, Ms. Evans, but understand I had to make sure everything was in order and you were not a clever ruse of Voldemort’s. Just one more question, and then I can attend to your husband as well. Do you know what curse hit him?”

Lily opens her mouth, and for the second time since her arrival, only strangled sounds come from her lips. Desperate, her eyes flick around the room, noticing for the first time that Sirius, Remus, and Peter are staring back at her in abject horror. The sight of the others only fills her eyes with tears, and Lily frantically searches for the strength to mumble out the truth out loud, to bring the others into the severe reality of the situation, but it’s too much. In a last ditch effort, Lily stares Dumbledore head on, looking past his half-moon glasses to his eyes with words and images screaming across her mind for him to read or hear, however his alleged Legilimency works. 

Dumbledore nods back, expression more somber than before, and he leaves, too, now back to the cellar in a turn of his heel and flick of his robes. Lily is left standing in the middle of the room,  but not for long, as her knees are the first bit of her to give up. The rest of her wishes in vain that looking into Dumbledore’s eyes had been more like it used to be those years ago in his office, when things were simpler and safer, when she took hold of James’ hand for the first time and decided she wasn’t letting it go. Back when it didn’t seem possible that his hand would be so forcibly ripped from her own.

With her own shaking, shaking, shaking hands, Lily tries to cover her face, only to discover they’re covered in James’ blood.

“Lily?”

“I’m gonna be sick.”

“Lily?”

“I need-- I need, damn, I don’t know--”

“Lily!”

Sirius’ face hovers before her, his grey eyes swimming with concern and what she thinks is anger, his big hands wrapped around her forearms and holding her up. Remus stands back wearily, doing a better job at appearing composed than Peter, who looked absolutely pale with terror. Sirius shakes her back and forth, jostling her almost violently.

“Lily,  _ what happened? _ ”

With that, Lily promptly vomited directly onto Sirius’ leather jacket. Remus rushes forward, trying to pull him away.

“Sirius, let her go, she’s in shock--”

“--James, tell me what happened to him--”

“She bloody well can’t and you know it, leave her alone--”

“Alone?” In a flash, Sirius lets her go, unconcerned that Lily was in the middle of a fresh wave of sick as he rounds back on Remus. “Leave her alone, the same thing you said when they didn’t come back with the others! Leave them, what you said when James dropped the mirror, the same thing you said when Lily spoke through it not five minutes ago! Fucking lot of good that did, huh, Lupin?”

“Moody would have told you the same thing, as well as Dumbledore. You’re too close to this, you aren’t thinking it through.”

“You should have let me go. You shouldn’t have held me back, I could have helped, this is  _ your fault _ \--”

“You had no way of knowing where to find them, no way to come out alive, no way to--”

“You don’t care,” Sirius snaps back, and in the next moment he’s inexplicably laughing while Lily attempts to calm herself, to regain control. “You don’t care about James, you wouldn’t give a damn if he dies because that’s the way you are--”

“You’re out of line, Sirius.” Remus says steadily in that pseudo-calm way of his, and the shift in their conversation brings Lily enough focus to see Sirius fingers flinch over his wand, and Remus notices too. In a flourish they both have their wands out, pointed at each other’s chests. Sirius’ heaves up in down in his continued state of frustration while Remus looks paler than usual with his wand steady above Sirius’ heart. They almost lunge at each other again, ready to continue on in the fight Lily had interrupted when she appeared with James, but they don’t.

Without another word, Remus leaves. No goodbye, no pause to check on her, no last retort to Sirius. His torn and tattered robes and equally worn body disappear through the same door that Doge went out. To where, Lily doesn’t know, because the only home he’s known of late have been the streets with the other werewolves.

An unimportant worry, at least right now, as Lily begins to cough anew. Thankfully no bile follows. A wand in front her eviscerates the vomit on the floor and on her shoes, and there’s a glass of water tentatively placed beside her. The next thing she knows, a rag is in her hands, and it’s moving in rough patterns to clean off the stained on blood.

Black sleeves. Black leather sleeves, and a black curtain of hair that blocks his eyes. Sirius continues cleaning her hands for her without a word.

“You shouldn’t have yelled at Moony like that,” Lily says after a few moments, words catching in her raw throat. “He didn’t deserve that.”

Sirius shrugs without comment, standing and throwing the blood soiled towel onto the ground and Vanishing it in silence. Lily watches him, eyes following his tall build-- taller, much more beautiful and elegant than James could ever strive to be, and always without effort. As she watches, Sirius mutters something in Peter’s ear, whose eyes flick anxiously between her and Sirius during the whole exchange before he gives a curt nod and leaves the room.

“You should go after him. You should find him.”

“Remus isn’t my biggest concern right now, Evans.”

“You’ve never spoken to him like that.”

“Not around you, no.”

“Oh.”

Sirius stares at her for a moment longer, his arms folded across his chest and his gaze intense, Lily drops her own to the floor, feeling emptiness begin to consume her, eating away the life that was there and taking it, devouring it. Emptiness gorges itself on the fear, panic, and rage that had once filled her to the brim on this evening, leaving her with nothing but the vague bitter aftertaste of dread.

“Withdrawal is usually my sort of game, Lily, and you don’t play it well.”

Lily shakes her head, silent, and Sirius slams his hand against the wall.

“ _ Bullshit,”  _ he seethes, anger and frustration radiating off him in tangible waves that don’t penetrate the emptiness that gnaws at her. _ “ _ Bullshit! You don’t get to pull this stunt, Evans, not with me. You are  _ hours _ late from retreat, and when I finally get James through on the mirror, he’s gone! The next thing I hear is your voice-- which shouldn’t have worked, by the way, those have a very specific charm for the two of us-- and suddenly you pop out of bleeding fucking nowhere with what looks to be his  _ corpse,  _ Lily. Excuse me for being ever so _slightly_ annoyed with you.”

Words. Sirius retreats through words, in either excess or absence. Tonight he has chosen eloquence as his defense, and Lily shakes her head at him. Not in refusal, but in slow understanding.

“You’re not angry at me,” she says. Is this what true calm is, to feel nothing? Perhaps the Dementors are onto something. Perhaps they have been trying to help this whole time while wizards have vilified those merciful monsters. To feel is an expense she can’t afford right now, and so she continues without effort, with simple fact.

“You’re not angry at Remus, either.” Sirius stares at her, his glare a sharp contrast to the bored look with which she addresses him. “You’re only angry at yourself, as you always are. You know why we stayed back. You know what happened, and you know it’s your fault. Partially, at least.

“You know what happened, because if he were dead we wouldn’t be having this discussion. You know it wasn’t  _ Cruciatus _ , because that leaves no physical trace. Of the curses we’ve encountered, there aren’t very many options. It’s not a full moon, so he wasn’t bitten, and it wasn’t done by knife, because I couldn’t bandage him. Add in the fact that his back was turned and you know what happened.”

To her credit, she says the truth out loud, to his face, not in the shield of her mind. To his credit, he doesn’t flinch when she says it. 

“ _Sectumsempra_ _.” _

Sirius stares down at his wand, turning over the delicate instrument in his fingers before he whispers quietly, “How long are we going to fail in killing each other?”

“Snape’s tried his best to stop failing for a while now. He may have succeeded.”

“Don’t fucking-- Christ, Lily,  _ don’t say that.” _

She only shrugs. “Did you manage to kill Bellatrix?”

Sirius’ silence answers for him, and Lily sighs, repositioning herself on the floor to a more comfortable sitting position, moving to rest her back along the wall. “Tonight was a waste. Of time, of energy, of life. Tonight was a waste.”

“It shouldn’t have been as bad as it was. It was a loss as soon as the giantess showed. Why didn’t you just leave?”

“We were following orders. The retreat signal hadn’t come through.”

“Yeah,” Sirius mutters darkly, settling himself next to her on the floor as well. “Yeah, well. That’s exactly what we thought.”

“What do you mean?”

Sirius quirked an eyebrow at her, the way he used to before they were friends, when he was prone to be condescending about some trivial matter. Lily didn’t consider this trivial, however. 

“You shouldn’t have stayed in the first place,” Sirius continued, tone grim. “Someone tampered with the retreat signal.”

“No,” Lily shook her head. “No, that’s impossible. Death Eaters can’t produce Patronus charms the way we can. Death Eaters don’t have the capacity to alter a messenger Patronus.”

“Precisely the point, Evans.”

Lily stares at him through wide eyes, the implication of his words hanging in the air between them. 

“What are you talking about?” A dense question. She knows exactly what his words mean, because he’s correct. They should have retreated long before Dementors and Inferi had chance to close ranks, long before so many dark wizards had chance to arrive. The retreat signal was always coded, changing weekly or monthly to control for any possible interference. Sirius continues on as if he’s telling her idle gossip rather than the only thing that would have enough force to bring her past the wall she’s built around herself in the past hour. 

“There’s one way that half the Order would have seen the retreat signal-- Vance’s falcon-- and not the rest. Only one explanation.”

“We have a leak,” Lily whispered, dull horror ringing in her ears.

“Leak, mole, rat, whatever you want to call it,” Sirius listed, malice lacing his words. “I say we have a traitor.”

Before rage can come to a full boil on the surface, before her blood has chance to course with indignation, Lily heaves a dejected sigh. James may be near death if not already there because of someone within this Headquarters, but she has always been filled with kindness over revenge, compassion over retribution. She takes a moment to think, her mind slow and thoughts thick and heavy. 

“These are our friends, Sirius, people we’ve known since school or since our first real battles. You can’t throw around that word carelessly.” Lily cautions him, because to go down any other path is to travel into a territory she doesn’t want to see again. Distrust. Disintegration. Betrayal.  “Whatever you’re suggesting, it was must have been an accident. Someone let slip something to a family member, a coworker.” The idea that someone amongst the Order was here to sell the others out, here to help Voldemort do a more efficient job, was unfathomable.

“How can you defend them?” She doesn’t have to face him to know the look of disgust he directs her way, but Lily continues to pull at the knots in her jumper, which is stained beyond redemption. Sirius carries on regardless. “How could you possibly defend something like this?” 

Lily leans her head back against the wall, tears welling up around the edges. 

“I’m so tired,” she whispers. “I’m so tired of living like this, of just fighting all the time. I wake up exhausted, James doesn’t laugh like he used to, and I’m tired.” Tears flow steadily down in a gentle, orderly line that she doesn’t bother to stop. “I’m twenty and can’t imagine what being forty will be like, and I just want for there to be some good left when I’m gone. I can’t stand to think someone we love is killing us with intention.”

He weighs her steadily, mouth open to fire a retort that he quickly bites back, obviously weary of her tears. He’s never been great at dealing with her tears. 

“Even accidentally, disloyalty like this is…” Sirius counters slowly, “With James being…  it deserves death, Lily. That’s all there is to it.”

Glass shatters in the doorway, and startled, Lily and Sirius look up to see Peter standing before them with what had been a tray with a kettle and tea cups, but is now a pile of steaming ceramic shards on the carpet. Peter stares between them and the mess, frozen in place.

“S-sorry,” Peter stammers, crouching down to gather the broken bits of teacup, hands shaky. Lily smiles weakly at him through blurry eyes, stretching herself to grab a piece that landed near her ankle, grateful for the interruption. 

“ _ Reparo _ will fix it up in no time, Pete,” she says reassuringly, if not a bit thickly. “Though I’m afraid your tea’s a loss now.”

“Yeah,” Peter breathes, fumbling for pieces of broken tea ware with unsteady hands. Lily reaches for him, enclosing her palm around his fist, but Peter doesn’t look up to accept the little comfort she can offer him. Lily understands. Wormtail’s always had the least tolerance for nights like these. 

It’s with that thought that Lily realizes she’s no longer being devoured by the emptiness that taunted her earlier, as a stable sadness moves in instead to level her. It’s cathartic to sit next to Sirius, to see that Peter’s here safe, and she hopes Remus is good wherever he’s gone off to. She watches Sirius stand and help Peter, and she almost smiles. Sirius doesn’t realize when he does this-- when he assumes James’ role. James is the one after battle who makes sure that she’s fine, that that she goes to whoever is in Headquarters that night with the best healing charms. He’s the one who makes sure that Sirius isn’t going to fall apart at the edges, makes sure to send Remus away with a reminder to visit as soon as possible, the one who sits with Peter and talks to him in low, soothing tones to remind him of why they’re crazy enough to do this in the first place. Lily’s only seen this side of Sirius during the rarest of occasions, in the moments when James hasn’t been able to be by her side because they were fighting or he was sent on a separate mission. He takes over James’ role for her, because he knows that’s what James needs him to do. What she needs him to do. It’s Sirius’ loyalty in action, loyalty not to a cause, not to an idea-- loyalty to James, who has always been that paradigm of stability and unquestionable wholeness that Sirius has never had.  

By the time Sirius turns his attention back to her, she’s already wiping new tears off her cheeks. He sighs, waves Peter away from the room, and sits back down next to her, his arm over her shoulder.

“How are you doing this?” Lily asks, leaning her head into him. “Why are you okay right now?”

“Because if I think for a second that I’m not, Lily, I’m going to fucking lose it.” His next inhale is sharp, unsteady. “If I let myself think… I’m not gonna make it.”

That’s the Sirius she’s more than accustomed to-- the one who has perfected an art of avoidance until it burns him from the inside. But even still, his usual urge to isolate is not fulfilled tonight as his hand rubs her shoulder, though his eyes remain downcast. Lily wants to smile at him, to reassure him as well as herself, but she can only bring herself to place a gentle kiss on his cheek for him to accept in silence.

Silence. Loud, screaming silence, all at once comforting and not. But this silence is effortless, and that is what she needs-- something effortless, like love. To love has been as instinctual as magic had been to her before she had a name for flights off swings and flower tricks. Effortless and instinctive, like the ease with which she crashed into love with James, only to find that he had been there all along, waiting.

Waiting. Something that’s never come as effortless as love to her. Always waiting. Waiting to leave Petunia, waiting to see her again, waiting to feel wanted by her again. She’s never been good at waiting, always too full of hope that is more often than not met with disappointment. Like waiting for the real Sev to show again, the one who sits on the swings with her, not the one who won’t even look at her in crowded hallways. These days have been full of waiting, always waiting, for something good to happen. 

Her hopes are met with disappointment, and she’s quickly abandoning that young and fanciful notion that things will work out for her. She’s lived too many lifetimes to fool herself into thinking that she and James will be an exception to tragedy that tends to follow bold hearts. James, so big and so full of romantic notions of loyalty and bravery and goodness, has always been a tragedy waiting to happen.  

Lily looks at her hands, roughly cleaned of blood, at her tattered jumper and her torn jeans and the spot on the floor still wet with the tea that Peter spilt. She looks at Sirius, his hair and jacket not sitting as gracefully as they should, reminders of his fight with Remus. She looks at Sirius and is filled with a horrible, unspeakable, and encompassing dread that this is it, that this is the beginning of the end. Whether or not James makes it through, she feels that something imperceivable but incomprehensibly huge has shifted for the worse as her thoughts from earlier pound in her head.  _ Distrust. Disintegration. Betrayal. _

Years, hours, and seconds pass her by as she sits, twirling her wedding band round her finger to keep track of it all. Sitting, waiting in that loud and judgmental silence. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love sirius/lily friendship / vaguely more than friendship
> 
> also!!!!! i love the marauders and what jk rowling has done to my emotional well being !!!


	3. Part III

She sits, her hands folded into his with a tight grip, one that makes her own knuckles white, but she can’t bring herself to consider if it is uncomfortable for him. She doubts he registers anything through the serums and potions that have been forced down his throat or applied directly to his back. 

The sleeves of the jumper McKinnon found for her are too long, but it was the only clean thing she could find for Lily to change into-- apparently Gideon and Fabian’s sister has been knitting sweaters for the Order, and Lily cannot begrudge the woman that simplistic notion that all they need is some hand-made kindness to boost the moral that has gone so dangerously low this winter. 

It is completely, ridiculously absurd that a sweater would be able to help them out of this, the shock of everything rooting Lily in place, staring at her crisp white knuckles that have captured James’ dark hand in her clutch. She feels as if she’s left half of her in that sitting room with Sirius and the other half where McKinnon pulled her away without choice to have medical attention before she would be allowed to see James. She’s not sure what part of her sits here with him now, silent and shocked and terrified.

But he’s alive. That’s what she focuses on, how his chest moves slowly up and down, how the white bandages make stark contrast against his skin, plastered to what will soon be simple, harmless scars as if this was a simple, harmless night. 

“He’s lucky beyond belief,” someone says, and Lily jumps, jerking her head up to see Remus Lupin emerge from the shadows in the doorway, his hands deep in his pockets and his eyes exhausted. Overall, exhausted. She’s lost track of when the next moon is, lost track of that when he moved underground. She’d feel guilty about it if she had any capacity to feel more than the pounding shock that continues to lace her thoughts. 

“You saved him,” Remus continues, looking at James passed out on his stomach instead of at her. “You did that. You should be proud.”

“I thought you left.”

“No,” he shakes his head. “I helped Marlene and Alastor.  _ Sectumsempra  _ can be remarkably similar to werewolf scratches. I’ve always wondered if Severus found me as inspiration for that.”

“He probably did,” Lily tells him candidly. Remus only shrugs in response. “Sirius didn’t mean what he said earlier.”

“There’s no need to explain Sirius to me. I’ve known him quite a bit longer than you.”

“He was just upset.”

Another tired shake of his head. “He meant it, Lily,” Remus whispers, staring at her in that old way of his, the look that reminds her that she’s not the only one who has lived through lifetimes. “He meant it.”

Remus walks around the cot which has been sitting in Benjy’s old bedroom for medical emergencies such as this, when it is far too suspicious or dangerous to go to St. Mungo’s after a mission. They’ve tried to keep as much Order activity in house as possible to prevent nosy Healers from recognizing patterns of care and patients, who could carelessly or maliciously pass on that information and expose them one by one. Only, if Sirius is right, then how are they supposed to stay safe and protected even within Headquarters?

He settles down next to her, and she flinches involuntarily at his nearness. Remus, ever hyperaware of the fear in others around him, notices immediately. He sighs.

“You agree with Sirius, don’t you?” He says it more like a statement than question, and she can feel his gaze on her hand clenching James’ so viciously but she stares straight ahead, not looking at him. “You think it’s my fault you were alone, that we didn’t come for you.”

Lily doesn’t answer him, and it takes a few moments for Remus to speak again.

“Believe me, Lily,” he nearly pleads, voice rough and words choked compared to his usual evenness. She turns her head to him to see he’s covered his face with a trembling hand. “I only did what I thought was right.”

She tries to shake the feeling from earlier, the foreboding sense of things to come.

_ Distrust. _

“I understand,” she lies. “You couldn’t have known, Moony. There were too many possibilities of too many things to go wrong.”

He takes a deep breath as if she’s surprised him, and maybe she has. He speaks again with more of his familiar steadiness.

“All of us were back but you two and Cederac, but Dorcas had seen Mulciber take him down. We had no way to know if the Apparation barrier was still intact, or if you were even alive. There was no logical strategy to help you.”

_ Disintegration.  _

“Yes,” Lily nods slowly, placating him. Pushing down her instinct to lash out, to admit that she blamed him-- because if James had thought there was a slight chance that one of the boys was missing but alive, hesitation would never have crossed his mind. Isn’t that how this even happened? 

But Remus had not. Remus had stopped Sirius from coming to find them, had prevented a variable that may have crucially impacted the results of the night.

_ Betrayal. _

“Dumbledore wants us to move headquarters again,” he says, as if he could make things normal by simple conversation. “If you ask me, I’d say he’s worried about something. This’ll be the third move in a month.”

Lily doesn’t answer. Instead, she brings James’ hand to her lips, holding his cold fingers beneath her lips, as she stews in what feels to be one of the first uncomfortable silences she’s ever had with Remus Lupin. Despite how much she hates it and cannot stand the fact that she’s being unforgiving and paranoid, Lily can’t bring herself to change her feelings. Can’t bring herself to do much of anything except rock slightly back and forth in place, trying to think and re-piece her life together in light of everything she now knows. 

How long Remus sits with her in that horrifyingly thick silence is unclear. James’ wizard watch ticks on in its odd rhythm. She’s never truly understood what the instrument measures, be it moon patterns or constellations, nothing at all, maybe hopes or even the simple mystery that is time. However long she sits is enough to remember her own words from earlier this evening, to remember that good comes with bad and life has been a risk she’s tired of gambling-- can no longer gamble, in fact. Just as she opens her mouth to confess to Remus the vile, traitorous thoughts of him that have been running through her mind, something happens.

Quite abruptly, James shifts in his state, and a moan of pain barely escapes his lips as his head lifts and his feet jerk and twitch before settling down. Startled, Lily drops his hand from her clutch and sobs in quick relief, head in hands that cover her eyes. 

He’s not paralyzed, something McKinnon couldn’t tell her earlier. He can still fly and transform, can look forward to running around playing with the--

But she’s getting ahead of herself in many ways. James can move, and that’s what matters. Snape hasn’t taken away his life or even his way of life. Snape’s failed to kill him, once again. Only barely, but it is a failure she takes as her their own success, because they’ve had so little of that lately.

James is okay, he’s okay, he’s going to be okay. But even as she recognizes that fact, Lily begins to cry anew, fresh tears coating the tracks that all previous tears have traveled. Remus places his hand on her shoulder, which heaves up and down. 

_ He’s okay. He’s okay. He’s going to be okay. _

Heartbeat loud in her ears, Lily can at least register that Remus is here, that he’s stayed by her side. It is an act of loyalty, of piety, that she’s not blind to.

Lily decides to repay the favor. He has stayed, seeking to ensure her trust, and she’ll give it to him, as she always had in the past. It is the right, forgiving thing to do, and she wants to make sure she has that much heart left to bleed. 

It’s through blurred eyes and a constricted throat that Lily confesses the truth to him, the first time these words have passed her lips. And maybe, circumstances changed, it would be the magical moment she’d been told of time and time again by witches and wizards, Muggle women and their men. But these words are not magical. They are guilt-ridden and fearful, and Lily feels it all.

Eyes trained on James, she opens her mouth.

“I’m pregnant.”

At once, Remus’ hand stops its soothing motion, and the room is silent-- even James’ wizard watch respects the gravity of the situation and quiets its ticking.

“ _ What?" _

“Pregnant,” Lily repeats with a slight shrug of her shoulders, turning to him. “At least, that’s what McKinnon’s just told me.”

Remus’ wide eyes hold her gaze, the shock and confusion etched across his lined face.

“Christ,” he mutters, more to himself than to her. “Merlin and Morgana.”

She can see the wheels turning in his mind, trying to put things together. She’d help if she could, but she still hasn’t figured out how she’s in this situation. How she’d managed to conceive after severe injury to her abdomen, now near a year of thinking she was infertile. Lily has no clue how she’s gone months without realizing what was happening within her own body, and she has even less of an idea as to how the baby managed to survive this night, to be in relatively healthy condition considering how much of her stress it experienced immediately with her. 

There is absolutely nothing to show, nothing to see there, but Lily places a hand to rest gently upon her stomach. Beyond confused, beyond any other conscious state aside from the knowledge that something tremendously large has shifted in her life. Years ago, long lectures from Binns or Slughorn or McGonagall would bring idle daydreams, innocent musings of what it’d be like to start a family with James, and not once did Lily envision a time such as this blind, disordered chaos. 

But this is reality, whether she’d imagined it or not. She’s sitting in an uncomfortable chair in the old bedroom of a dead friend, praying her husband will know who she is when he wakes from whatever pain and potion induced coma he’s in. In all her daydreams, she could see the bright horizons of post-war peace and optimism, cultural revolution for the offspring of a Pureblood and Mudblood. 

She only sees darkness ahead, dangerous clouds of chaos and fear conspiring around them. A family that’s enmeshed in the horrors of war, a tragedy she’s already made the baby endure. 

“I’m already a bad mother,” she whispers, more to herself than to Remus. But he doesn’t contradict her. Instead, he stands and begins to pace around Benjy’s small room, running his hand through his thin hair. He glances at her occasionally, opening and closing his mouth, before continuing in his pace. This is how he strategizes, and Lily fully recognizes that she’s just become a more complicated knight in the game of chess Remus has been playing during the war. She’s never liked being a chess piece to him-- war is far more like Exploding Snap, but that is a philosophical point for another night. 

“He’s due in August,” she continues, and she doesn’t notice that she’s again taking to talking to James, picking up his hand and holding it close to her. “Imagine that, huh? A sweet, summer baby.”

She doesn’t know when Remus leaves. Doesn’t notice when Sirius returns with the bag from their home he’d gone to fetch. Doesn’t notice that Peter never stops by. 

All she knows is the the steady beat of James’ watch as it carries on, a sound that’s more like a heartbeat to her now than anything else. It beats on slow and steady, simultaneously taking in its hold her beating heart with his, and in the distance she can hear a third heart move steady with theirs, new and bold and alive.

  
When she grips his hand tighter, her mind rushing in all directions in a complete standstill, he can't do the same through the pain. And when she starts to cry, she doesn't stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO . thank you for reading!! a few explanations.  
> -there must be strong reasons to have suspected remus of being the traitor. of all people in the order, of the people close to the potter's, why remus? i imagine his absences to underground didn't help anything.  
> -i have a major headcanon that lily just didnt think she could be pregnant, that harry is a miracle baby to someone whose body is under constant stress, has endured injury, and more. so i dont think lily and james were concerned about conceiving, because it wasnt an option. harry is a complete surprise, and lily doesnt even register that shes pregnant until a few months ( i think here, its three?) in. and he wasn't supposed to be a july baby, so like, the prophecy is just extra coincidentally him.  
> -i also realize cederac dearborn's fate goes against canon but whatchu gonna do about it
> 
> I'm so proud to have this done! you have no idea, ive had this in a working progress for maybe two years, but really got a lot done over the past few months. school's been so much so this was a nice break to have.
> 
> happy october aka jily death month!!!

**Author's Note:**

> the first wizarding war was some next level stuff..... absolutely wild.
> 
> this could alternatively be titled, "how many explicit parallels to harry and to their limited dialogue can i make in one work?"


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